


Purchase Day

by Daegaer



Series: Problems in Navigation [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Slavery, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford needs a new navigator for his ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purchase Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2015 Weiss vs Saiyuki Battle, for [](http://laurose8.livejournal.com/profile)[laurose8](http://laurose8.livejournal.com/)'s prompt: _Crawford/Ran : future reincarnation fic : belonging together_ Space Opera!

"How much?" Crawford said, looking down just before his communicator beeped. Schuldig had another possibility. Good. _This man was going to cheat him_. He looked up, sharply. "I don't pay for plague carriers."

The merchant backed off, hands raised placatingly. Behind him a lackey hurriedly shoved a shivering girl back behind the gauze screens. "Lord Captain, no, no, you misunderstand, _this_ is the navigator - " Another young person was pulled out to stand before him.

The young man's gaze was rather too direct and focused for what was, essentially, a piece of equipment to be plugged into the ship. Crawford raised an eyebrow and looked closer. His eyes were at least the right colour, a light violet, though the drugs had not yet clouded them a solid hue. He looked the young man up and down, dismissively, noting how straight he stood, the defiant twist to his lips. He was unusually self-controlled for a navigator. A debt-chattel, no doubt, that had never flown before. Inexperienced, but with few irritating habits from other ships to be unlearnt. And not, Crawford thought a little unwillingly, displeasing to look at. Better than the last navigator, not that that would have been difficult, at the end.

"Ah, Lord Captain," the merchant said, "this one is very fine, I can tell you can see his special qualities already. The red hair goes well with the eyes, doesn't it?"

"I'm not looking for a decoration," Crawford said, and checked his communicator again. "The price?"

"One thousand shares."

"You must be joking," Crawford said. "My first officer tells me he has a better option at the other end of the market. Good day."

"Wait, Lord Captain! I agree, the price may be high for one so young – I could come down a little. Perhaps, nine hundred and twenty?"

"The price can't come down too far," the young man said. He ignored the merchant's outraged splutter, fixing his intense violet gaze on Crawford's face. "I'm no slave, I'm splitting the cost of this deal with this idiot, that's all. I'll be your navigator, I got good grades in maths and physics –"

"That's hardly all that's involved," Crawford said, intrigued despite himself. The previous navigator hadn't said as much to him in five years.

"I've been taking the drugs! I know the changes are permanent! I'm willing, just – damn it, you wouldn't be here if you didn't need someone."

Crawford looked at him properly, taking in the still-intelligent face, the signs of a properly nourished childhood, and thought what could make a man do something like this.

"Times are tough now? Your family owes money?"

The young man looked defeated for the first time. "My sister – I'm all she has, and she needs medical treatment. Expensive treatment. So I'm splitting the money with him. But I'm not a slave."

Crawford nodded. "Commendable family feeling. You signed a contract with this man?" He smiled thinly at the nod he got in response. "I regret to tell you then, that you might get your money, but you _are_ a slave. And you –" He turned back to the merchant. "Have you ever been between worlds? Would you trust your life to a captain who didn't know how to fly? To a gunner who didn't know how to shoot? Why, by all the gods, would you trust it to a navigator who doesn't know one end of a ship's computing system from another? I wouldn't pay a whore's wet fart for him."

"Now, Lord Captain, this one is _educated_ -" the merchant said, professionally insulted on his equipment's behalf.

As the subject of their argument sank down, despair in his violet eyes, the haggling began in earnest.


End file.
